It was actually the day after Valentine’s Day, but for me there were plenty of signs that this would be the One. The nikau palm in the morning sun was pointing its fingers eagerly, fanning out in excitement.

The bach door, sporting its lucky horse-shoe, knew that a special day had arrived at last, the one I’ve been waiting for, for six weeks.

I gathered up fresh garden produce to make favourite salads.

 And soon, a well-loved little knock sounded on the door. And yes, here is the little one, sweeping in from her sojourn in China, taking to the water as if she never left.

 Her legs have grown taller and she can manage her board so much better. How good life is when you have two worlds with distinct cultures and you love every minute in each of them.

Could any day be more perfect than this? That night I dreamed I was being gifted these beautiful papier mache balls by a young woman. I felt I was guarding a precious gift.
What is more precious than a young, happy life? This was the best Valentine’s Day ever, my very own red letter day.